


Yearning

by kmandofan90



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmandofan90/pseuds/kmandofan90
Summary: Princessbatears over on Tumblr won my 100 follower giveaway. She asked for smut, soft, and Paz, with a touch of plot.While taking a short vacation, you show Paz your brand new bikini and you teach him how to swim. Sort of.
Relationships: Paz Vizla/Reader, Paz Vizla/You, Paz Vizsla/Reader, Paz Vizsla/You
Kudos: 69





	Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> Alor'ad - captain  
> Kute - garments worn under armor  
> Verd - soldier  
> Cyare - beloved  
> Karta bes'kar - the hexagon in the center of the breast plate, "iron heart"

Sitting on the edge of the metal table, you swing your legs back and forth slowly, keeping out of Paz’s way. He is reorganizing the cargo bay, arranging the most recently acquired goods in neat piles. The supply run had been tremendously successful, albeit boring, and the Tribe will be well-cared for throughout the rest of the year.

“No,” Paz says patiently.

Paz presses down on the lid to shut it, but it refuses to yield. He then forces the matter by sitting on the lid and latching it. Hopefully, there wasn’t anything breakable in there. Paz pushes it toward the back wall and starts stacking more crates around it.

“Please?” you ask.

“No,” he repeats. “It’s a waste of time.”

Paz goes back to the other side of the cargo bay and starts digging through yet another box.

“I have been cooped up on this ship for a solid two weeks now,” you respond, trying not to whine at him.

“I told you from the start that this was going to be a supply run,” Paz said easily, still not looking up. “You still asked to tag along. Not my fault.”

“I need some exercise,” you say.

He gestures at the one tiny open patch on the floor.

“Plenty of open space for you to do pushups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks,” he said.

You almost growl. Stubborn, stubborn man.

“But – “

“But nothing,” he says.

You sigh dramatically. Time to bring out the EWEB cannon. If this does not work, there is no hope for you. Reaching for your bucket, you jam it back onto your head and turn away.

“Fine,” you say dejectedly, letting a big sigh escape you. “I really wanted to wear my bikini.”

You walk down the hallway, swinging your hips flirtatiously. Thankfully, he breaks before you make it back to the bunk.

“…bikini?”

“Yeah,” you say to him. “I bought it a while ago.”

“…you own a bikini?” he asks slowly. “Why haven’t I seen it before?”

“Well, we have never gone swimming before,” you sigh at him. “I guess I’ll have to see if it can be returned.”

“You can’t return swimsuits,” Paz says at long last. “It would be a waste of money if you didn’t get to use it at least once.”

“Yes, it would be,” you agree.

_Come on_ , Vizsla, you think to yourself _, take the kriffing bait_.

If there is anything Paz loves in this galaxy, it is touching you, running his fingers along every dip and curve of your body. In private, he can’t keep his hands off you. He always wants to be touching you, or to be touched by you. A bikini would allow him unfettered access to all of you, not a single scrap of armor in the way. Just the way he likes it.

“We’ll make it a quick stop,” he says.

You grin to yourself under your bucket.

“You sure it won’t be a problem?” you ask coyly.

He turns his head sharply in your direction, clearly annoyed with you.

“You have succeeded in changing my mind, no need to pretend that you aren’t gloating right now,” he says dryly. “C’mere, _cyare_.”

You laugh as you return to his side. Paz wraps one thick arm around your middle and pulls you close, pressing his forehead to yours gently. Closing your eyes, you lift your hands up to his chest, feeling the familiar, hard planes of his cuisse, before moving up to his neck. You worm your fingers up the back of his bucket and stroke the nape of his neck, listening to the little growl of pleasure that he lets out.

-

-

-

The next morning, you wake up alone in bed and stretch out, a little noise escaping you as you _really_ reach for it. Then you roll over a few times, tangling yourself in all the blankets as you pull Paz’s pillow over your head. Just as you’re about to drowse back off, the door opens. Peeking through the narrow gap between the pillow and the bed, you see Paz standing beside the bed, wearing only his black kute. You try to stay very still and pretend you are still asleep. Of course, that does not deter him, and he crawls onto the bed with you.

You bite down on your lower lip as Paz starts peeling the blankets away from you, wadding them up and tossing them at the foot of the bed carelessly. At long last, you are laying there, curled up as you try to evade the frigid bedroom air. Paz comes closer, his hands on either side of you, as he traps you between his chest and the bed.

By now, you know that he knows you are awake. Your entire body is shaking from your giggling, even as you pull the pillow down onto your face to smother your laughter. Slowly, the pillow lifts off your face, and you grin up at Paz. His brow is raised, a clear show of his affectionate annoyance.

“Are you awake, _cyare?”_ he asks.

“I guess,” you sigh to him.

“Good,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. “We are about twenty minutes out, and I want to see that bikini.”

You let out a delighted noise as you roll out of the bed. Then you head for the refresher, where you take care of your morning routine. You always leave the door cracked so Paz can come have a peek. Today, he stays in the galley, cooking something that smells absolutely divine. As you wash your hair, you can hear him quietly singing some song you can’t recognize. You poke your head out.

“So, what are we doing, exactly?”

“I know a place,” Paz said. “We’ll need to hike to get there. It isn’t far, nor do we gain or lose much elevation. The terrain is very rough, so I think it might be about ninety minutes each way.”

“Gotcha,” you say, and you prepare accordingly.

You decide to wear your bikini under your kute. You will be in the water shortly after you get there, anyway, so it isn’t like it matters if it gets a bit sweaty. Then you pack an extra set of clothes and a few towels. When you are dressed, you stroll into the cargo hold, which looks a lot neater now.

The two of you share a simple, nourishing meal, just listening to the soft hum of the engines. He goes to the cockpit while you go pack some snacks for the hike. When you come back out, you find his duffel bag on the crate. He probably packed at some point last night, so you decide to snoop. No swimsuit. You frown. Fortunately, you had bought swimming trunks in his size long ago, so you shove those into his bag. If you are going to wear a bikini, he _will_ be wearing swim trunks.

The ship rocks gently, meaning that Paz has put it down in a clearing somewhere. When he returns, you have both bags on the biggest crate, ready to go. After making sure you have your weapons and ammunition, the two of you head out, locking the ship up tightly and tossing a camouflage tarp over top. It won’t do anything to disguise the ship to anyone on the ground, but it will not be visible from the air.

He leads the way toward the foot of the mountains. The two of you wind through the game trails, occasionally hopping over a fallen log or some rubble. The ground is flat but the underbrush is nigh impenetrable without something sharp, and given that this planet is populated, the last thing you want to do is leave evidence that someone has passed by relatively recently. The rain will wash away your tracks, but it will take months for the plants to regrow.

Paz’s estimate is accurate. It takes eighty-three minutes to break through the underbrush, just in time for the sun to start peeking through the cloud cover. The river is broad and flat, moving lazily through the rocky bed. Paz takes a left and heads downstream. You follow, carefully picking your way across the bigger rocks, avoiding the slippery moss patches.

At long last, he leads you to a sharp bend in the river. He makes his way across and disappears. You follow. For a second, you don’t exactly realize where he went, but then you see the massive crack in the wall. A cave wall had collapsed at some point, allowing the water to rush in and create a natural pool. It is nice and cool inside, with a short pebbly beach and a shale outcropping where you can put your towel down. One side is covered by the brush, and the narrow opening where the water exits is open, allowing gentle sunlight to trickle in.

“I like it,” you say.

Paz nods. You spread your towel out and shuck off your boots. Then your helmet and armor come off. Once you’re standing there in your kute, you notice Paz is watching you expectantly. You turn to face him, reaching up to unzip your cowl. Slowly, you remove both your gloves, keeping your eyes on his visor the whole time. Teasingly, you toss your hair back, unzipping the front of your one-piece kute, holding the edges together to keep him from seeing anything.

“Come on, love, don’t be a tease,” he says. “Show me everything.”

You give him a coy smile as you pull the suit open and start working it down your arms, arching your back a bit as you pull the sleeves down behind yourself. Then you push it down your hips, making sure to exaggerate your gestures so your titties will bounce a bit. Bending over, you slide it down your calves and pull your feet through.

“Do you like it?” you ask, turning a slow circle for him.

The material was the same rich royal blue as his armor, while the little flowers were much lighter, like his cheek plates. It was a tiny thing that covered just enough to keep you legal on most planets. You can see Paz swallow from here.

“I like it very much,” he says. “My colors suit you.”

You grin.

“Thanks, I thought so, too,” you say cheekily. “Check the side pocket on your bag _.”_

He tilts his head curiously and obeys. He pulls out the swim trunks – the exact same shade as _your_ armor.

“ _Cyare,_ I have a confession to make,” he says. “I can’t actually swim.”

“Can you tread water?”

“Just barely,” he says.

“Well, _Alor’ad_ ,” you say teasingly. “You are going to learn how to swim properly today.”

“Do I really need to?” he asks.

You raise your brow at him.

“Is that a whine I hear in your voice, _verd?_ ” you ask sternly.

“No,” he grumps. “Fine.”

You grin as he begins to strip down as well until he’s completely naked.

“You could swim nude,” you say helpfully. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course, you don’t,” he says. “You are a lecher, _cyare_.”

You shrug in response as he pulls the trunks up and ties a neat bow in the front. He looks adorable, you think, with his tummy just poking out over his shorts. Together, the two of you step into the water. It’s surprisingly warm. Since the river outside is so broad and shallow, the sun must keep it quite nice throughout the warmer months. Paz follows you in, wading in up to his waist.

“You need to come in further if you want to learn how to swim properly,” you say to him.

“I don’t float,” Paz says.

“You can float,” you assure. “You just need to relax.”

_“Cyare_ , I don’t float,” Paz repeats.

“Everyone can learn how to float at least a little bit,” you say, as you make your way back to him. “Come, just a little deeper.”

He sighs, but at least he follows you just a little further. The water is up to your shoulders now. Paz stares at you.

“Come on,” you urge, holding your arms out. “I’ll hold you up. Just lay on your back and relax.”

“Easier said than done,” he quips.

This time, he actually looks nervous. Slowly, he eases into the right position, though you can feel the tension in his body. You hold him against your shoulder, murmuring encouragingly, trying to help him relax. As the minutes go by, you can feel the tension leave his body, and he actually manages to float a bit, only his face remaining above the water.

“See?” you ask quietly. “You can do it.”

“I like this,” he says.

For a moment, you think he is referring to the relaxing position you have him, or maybe to the way you are stroking his hair, but he ruins that with one lewd statement.

“Not often I get to rest my head on your tits.”

“What will I do with you, Paz Vizsla?” you ask wryly.

“Just keep holding me,” he says quietly.

You plant a smooch on his forehead in response.

As the afternoon slowly drifts by, you manage to get Paz from ‘will absolutely sink like a rock’ to ‘may or may not make it back to shore’. If he ever falls into a body of water, he will at least have the tools to ditch the armor and make his way to safety. Armor can always be replaced, but his life cannot. When you grow hungry, you go back to the flat, shale outcropping where you put down your big towels. There, you relax in the sunlight, letting the warmth soak into you as you snack on the food he had packed.

The silence is broken by the sound of splashing. You open your eyes. Paz takes his shorts off and wrings them out. Then he spreads them out in the patch of sunshine to dry out. He joins you on the towel, spreading out without a care in the world. Biting down on your lower lip, you try to focus on relaxing. Not on the fact that he is completely naked. Swallowing, you peek over at him. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Reaching up, you start untying the strings holding the scraps of fabric on before finally tossing them down toward your feet. Quietly, you roll onto your side, and crawl toward your lover. Paz doesn’t open his eyes until you straddle his hips.

“ _Cyare_ ,” he rumbles out. “What are you doing?”

You ignore him and lean in, trailing little kisses along the scar that spans his pectoral. When you find his nipple, you give it a playful bite before flattening your tongue against the rapidly stiffening flesh, smiling at the sigh that escapes him.

“I take it you want something?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you say, before treating his other nipple to the same pleasurable torture.

As you move down, you lick up each sweet droplet of water, your hands falling to his cock. Already, he is starting to get hard. He twitches in your hand as you squeeze gently, your other hand rising to his balls. Firm, heavy, and covered in a fine thatch of hair. Rolling them in the palm of your hand, you flick your tongue against the sensitive patch under the head of his cock, smiling as his hips flex slightly.

Closing your eyes, you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head, taking him a little deeper each time, coating him in a generous layer of your saliva. You take it slowly. Here, in this tiny grotto, there’s no need to rush, no need to think about anyone else but each other. His rests his hand gently against the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, guiding your place, never letting you take him too deep. A few moments later, he pulls gently, stealing your prize away.

Wiping a bit of drool off your chin, you crawl up his body, nipping at his belly and grinning as he squirms. It took you a while, but you have found every ticklish spot on that man’s body. When you straddle his hips, you trap his cock underneath you. He grinds against your drenched core, wrenching a soft moan from you, your toes curling in response. Slick heat spreads through you to your core, culminating in a fiery crescendo between your legs.

When you bite your lip, Paz wraps his arm around your waist to pull you down onto his chest. His first kiss is almost gentle, his tongue parting your lips. With each fervent kiss, your hands pull at him more urgently, tugging at his hair, his neck, his shoulders. He breaks away, which allows you to suck down a gasp of air, your cheeks flushed cherry red with arousal.

“Would you happen to have impure intentions toward me?” he asks, lifting a brow, as he reaches up to grab your tit.

You laugh breathlessly.

“The most impure of intentions,” you say. “May I?”

“Please, do continue,” he says, as a grin crosses his handsome face.

Reaching under yourself, you steady his cock, tracing your entrance with the blunt head. You sink down slowly, taking him in a little bit at a time, your breath hitching in your throat as his hands encircle your waist. His eyes never leave yours as you split yourself open and take him to the hilt, your clit pressing up against his pubic bone. Neither of you speak or move, suspended in that moment of absolute, aching bliss.

Paz releases your waist, sliding his hands up to your breasts. Rough, calloused fingers tease your nipples, making your walls clench around his cock. You lean forward as Paz’s hands continue up to your neck, a wave of gooseflesh spreading in the wake of his touch. When his hands cup your cheeks, you kiss his palm.

Then you start to move, taking him languidly as you rest your weight on his belly. He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and your heart fills completely, to the point of overflowing with joy and adoration. Despite his rugged nature, Paz _purrs_ when you touch him in the just the right spot, melting into your arms without a care in the world. You prove the point by running your nails lightly through his chest hair. He lets out a low hum of pleasure, his eyes drifting shut, as you continue your exploration of his body.

You two have made love countless times, yet you never grow tired of mapping his body with your fingers and lips, memorizing where each scar or freckle lies. His hands fall back to your hips and he starts to buck his hips up against yours, taking full control of the pace. Paz slides in all the way, the tip of his cock just brushing up against something vaguely uncomfortable, before withdrawing until he’s on the verge of falling back out. His pace quickens and you let your fingers fall to your clit, stroking small, quick circles.

The sounds of your breaths and sighs mingle in the air, occasionally punctuated by Paz’s soft groans and the splashing of the river outside. All too soon, you feel that delicious tingling building inside you, muffled little whines and whimpers escaping you.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he rumbles. “Wanna hear you moan.”

You whine and throw your head back, your back arching to let him in just a little deeper. He changes his angle and that is all it takes to make your toes curl in pure bliss, his cock hitting you in _just_ the right spot.

“Fuck, right there!” you sob to him. “Yes! Yes, Paz!”

With final stroke, you fall over the precipice, crying out as you come undone around him. Paz groans as he follows, thrusting deep into you, his cock throbbing and pulsating as he fills you. You kiss his chest, relishing in the languid afterglow, your entire body limp and buzzing with satisfaction. Paz pulls out and you squirm as he tickles against your sensitive walls. Then you lay down on the towel next to him, your head against his shoulder. The heat slowly leaves your body and your heart rate returns to normal as Paz traces lazy circles against your back.

“We should get going soon,” he says quietly, looking at the entrance, where the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon.

“We should stay here forever,” you murmur drowsily.

“Don’t tempt me,” he says, half-jokingly.

You laugh in response.

“Give me a few minutes to regain feeling in my legs, then we can get started,” you say.

Paz hums, drawing you close to him. You close your eyes. You want nothing more than to stay here, simply enjoying each other, without any of the responsibilities that await you back home. When his arm tightens at your waist, breaking that magical spell that had enraptured you, you know it’s time to go.

As the two of you dress, a bittersweet sense of melancholy fills you. Soon, this place will be nothing more than a distant, pleasurable memory. You didn’t realize it before, but you miss those slow moments with Paz, where neither of you have to worry about the burdens you bear. Once you get back to the Tribe, it is going to be nonstop, a constant _go-go-go_ from sunup to sundown. You will barely have time for yourselves, much less each other.

As if sensing your melancholy, even under your bucket, Paz wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to him. Pressing his forehead against yours, he speaks quietly.

“There will always be time for us, _cyare_ ,” he whispers.

You melt against him, smiling even though he cannot see it.

“There will always be _us_ ,” he says. “No matter what, I will always be here.”

He presses his fingers lightly against the _karta bes’kar_ embedded in your breast plate. Your throat tightens.

“Always,” you whisper.

“Always,” he agrees.

He takes a half-step back, and in the time it takes for him to turn away, you find you already miss his warmth. The two of you pick up your belongings in silence. Pausing, you take one last look at the grotto. You don’t know what possesses you to do it, but you take a picture, just so you can always have that reminder of that sweet time you spent with your beloved. Paz squeezes your fingers, but he says nothing. It’s clear he understands.

Together, hand-in-hand, the two of you head out, ready to face the outside world once more.


End file.
